Fiction: Best Laid Plans 3

[solafiamma]

Best Laid Plans
Part 3

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The problem is, nothing changes. When JC wakes up the next morning, the sun is bouncing fragments of light off the crystal ornaments on his dresser, and he smiles in contentment until he realizes he's alone in the bed.

He finds Chris in the kitchen, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. Chris makes a few not particularly funny jokes about how wasted JC was the night before, but neither of them talks about the sex. Maybe Chris thinks he's forgotten. JC tries to broach the subject.

"So. The thing. Um. I just, I don't know. It, uh. Oh, fuck."

Chris raises his left eyebrow in question. "Mm hm?

"Oh, you know, I just. Well, I just wanted to thank you for-" He stops himself just in time. Jesus. Thanking Chris for screwing him, how pathetic would that be? And clingy, too. "Uh. You know I like dogs, right? Like, quite a bit?"

"You need a coffee, dude." Chris pours him a cup, slides it over and goes back to the paper.

"Um. Okay, though. Just to settle an argument, you prefer curly hair, don't you? On the people you, uh, you know. Date, or whatever."

Chris looks at him over the top of the newspaper for a good two minutes. "Huh. I guess I really don't give a rat's ass." He glances down at the paper again, then back up at JC. "You had an argument with someone about what kind of hair I like?"

"Oh, well. Not exactly an argument. More like, it just kind of came up in conversation. You know."

"Yeah, sure. Why not? I've had weirder conversations with you, I suppose."

"Do you think I'm neurotic?"

"I think you're wayyyy past neurotic, dude. I think you left neurotic behind somewhere round the time you started throwing out your underwear rather than washing them."

"But. Well, okay. I'm not clingy, though."

There's a funny look on Chris face that JC can't quite interpret. "No. No, you're definitely not clingy, Chasez."

They sit together in silence, Chris absorbed in his paper, JC staring into his coffee trying to remember why this had seemed like such a brilliant idea the night before. Sure, Chris had spent the night, but nothing's been accomplished. Just another casual fuck, and wasn't that totally not what the plan was about?

Except.

Except that this casual fuck was with Chris, and in their long history of casual fucks, they've never, ever, not even once done it more than once a year. This makes twice in less than a month. And JC even made the first move. That has to be progress of a sort, doesn't it?

He leans over and pokes Chris. "Hey. You wanna hang out? Maybe go to, I don't know, a show or something?"

"Sorry, no can do, man. I'm flying back to Orlando this afternoon and I promised Justin I'd stop by for a couple of hours first. In fact," he looks at his watch, "I'm late. Gotta take off, man. You wanna come with?

"Oh. No thanks." Crap. Justin. He can't possibly have found someone already, can he? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Of course he can. He's Justin Timberlake. He probably had twenty-five potential brides for Chris waiting on his doorstep within fifteen minutes of saying goodbye last night. Fuck.

He follows Chris into the hall and maybe holds on for a fraction of a second too long when Chris hugs him goodbye.

Pulling back, Chris looks at him questioningly. "You okay, C? You're acting kind of weird. Weirder. Weird with icing, I don't know."

"No, I'm fine. Fine. Except. Well, I just," JC closes his eyes and wrestles briefly with his conscience, "I just think you should probably know that Justin thinks you need a wife and he's going to try and set you up with some girls he knows. I thought you should know." Justin will forgive him. Eventually.

"What? Justin? Like I need him to pimp for me! Jesus fuck, I'm going to kick his ass."

JC smiles and gives him another hug. "Yeah. Yeah, I think you should."

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Even as he's riding the high that comes from sabotaging Justin's plan, JC knows he needs to work quickly. Justin is crafty and might rebound with a more devious plan. He might even try to set Chris up without Chris knowing by arranging random encounters with super models, or what have you, from a couple of thousand miles away. At least he's bought himself a little time. Chris is going to be suspicious of any woman who so much as smiles at him for at least the next couple of weeks.

After wrestling with the problem for a few days, JC is frustrated and cranky. He's pretty sure he's on the right track, that this whole making Chris feel needed is a sound strategy. It's just a question of figuring out the next step. The problem is, JC isn't devious. He's very much about letting things happen as they happen, about following instinct and intuition, about the abstract as opposed to the concrete.

In the past, Chris has always happened to him. Now he has to find a way to happen to Chris, and it seems like he's incapable of generating any ideas that aren't completely ridiculous (like telling Chris he's lost all his money on the stock market, for example, which would be way too complicated anyway because he'd have to get rid of all of his stuff, and maybe move into a cheap hotel, and he wouldn't have a studio anymore so his music would suffer and, well, he's worked too damned hard to let that happen) or too mean (like telling Chris he's terminally ill, which, how sexy are sick people, anyway, and Chris would be so worried and scared, and JC would rather never sleep with him again than put him though something like that).

The solution comes to him one morning when he's foraging in his kitchen cupboards, wondering rather sadly why he hadn't bought peanut butter last time he'd gone out for groceries. Or bread. Or Eggos. Or really, anything at all.

Joey.

Joey started this whole thing in the first place, by proposing to Kelly and making feel JC all restless and dissatisfied. Joey can help him fix it. He's bound to have some advice. After all, it took one hell of a long time for Joey to get down on his knee and Kelly's been right there for him since forever. If anyone can help him figure out how to move a relationship from maybe into definitely, Joey can.

JC's not sure how long the half-empty box of Fruit Loops has been lurking in the recesses of his pantry, but it's either that or a jar of anchovies, and why on earth had he ever bought those anyway? What did a person even do with anchovies? Mix them up with mayo and dill pickle like tuna? People put it on pizza, but he doesn't have any pizza and if he did? No way he'd be grossing it up with fish. If he wasn't so hungry, he'd call out for pizza though, because that would be just about perfect. Sighing, he empties the last of the Fruit Loops into a bowl, sniffs cautiously at the carton of milk before pouring it on top and grabs the phone. He speed dials Joey's cell as he settles himself at the table.

"Hello?"

The voice is all wrong, way too deep for Joey.

"Oh, sorry, dude. Wrong number."

"Wait, wait, don't hang up. JC? It's Lance."

"Oh, hey, Lance. Sorry. I must have pushed the wrong button, I was trying to get hold of Joey. But, you know. This is cool. How's Mississippi?"

"Good. Great. You didn't misdial, though. This is Joe's phone. He's visiting me for a few days." Lance's voice is all sexy and southern, his drawl always more pronounced when he's at home. Twenty minutes off the plane and his accent is stripped back to its roots. "Is everything okay? They haven't pushed your album back again, have they?"

"Oh, no. It's fine. I'm fine. Just. I'm having a bit of a problem, a relationship sort of problem. You know. I thought maybe Joey could help me out." As he's saying this, JC realizes that Lance being there is maybe a blessing. Lance is, like, the grand master of plotting and scheming, he always has been. If Joey doesn't have any ideas, Lance will for sure. "Hey, but maybe I could talk to both of you?"

After a bid of fiddling about, during which JC hangs up to dial Lance's number so he can be put on speaker phone, remembers he hasn't programmed Lance's land line into his speed dial and has to call Joey's cell again to get it, Joey finally says, "C, dude! You should be here! We'd give you cheesecake and sausages and maybe even one of those frou frou drinks Lance is so fond of these days."

"Fucker," says Lance, but JC can hear the smile. "You haven't said no to any drink I've put in front of you so far."

"Ever the polite guest, that's me. So, C, Lance says you're having relationship problems. Fuck, man, we didn't even know you had a thing going. Who is it? Why haven't you said anything?"

JC sighs and pushes his bowl of Fruit Loops aside. He'd give anything to be in Mississippi right now. If he was in Mississippi Joey would hug him repeatedly, because that's what Joey does, and JC could squeeze in between Joey and Lance on Lance's couch and sip away at one of Lance's fancy drinks while Joey squeezed him and Lance patted his head until the three of them had his problem worked out.

"Well, that's kind of the problem, you see. I don't have a thing going, not exactly anyway. But there's this, um." He pauses for a second, wondering how much he's going to tell them. He really can't tell them it's Chris. For one thing, if things don't work out, it'll be too weird when the group gets back together to do the next album and Joey and Lance are feeling all sorry for him and stuff. For another, he thinks that Lance used to have a thing for Chris himself a few years ago, which maybe didn't turn out too well, because Lance had suddenly started being testy and curt with Chris and had insisted on sharing the two man bus with Joey, so this might stir up painful memories. If he does get together with Chris, JC will have to tell Lance eventually, of course, but there's just no point in upsetting him unnecessarily. "There's this person-"

"Who?" Lance and Joey ask simultaneously.

"It's just. I don't really want to say. Not yet. It's kind of a superstition thing. Let's just call the person, um, Shorty."

Lance snickers but then gives an encouraging "Mm hmm?" so JC forgives him.

Joey just says, "Uh huh. So What's the deal with Shorty?"

"Well, it's like. See, I've known Shorty for, oh, a long time, really. A few years, anyway. We've, you know, had sex and all, but only a few times. Like, we do it maybe once a year. By and large. Really infrequently, anyway. And, you know, I'm just at a point in my life where I want more. With Shorty. You know, Joey, like you and Kelly. I want that kind of thing. Well, sort of. I mean it doesn't have to be marriage or anything and I have to say the whole kid thing freaks me out, even though Canada is relatively close-"

"He lives in Canada?" Lance asks dubiously.

"Um. No? And, hey, I never said it was a guy."

"Well, dude," Joey says. "Have to say, I kind of assumed we were talking about a guy too."

"Fine, whatever. It's a guy, okay? Shorty's a guy. Not really the point, though."

"Kind of nice if we don't have to refer to him as 'it' though," Lance says reasonably.

"Or 'he slash she,'" Joey adds.

"Or the sometime lover that dare not speak its gender."

"Guys! Please!"

Joey makes a shushing, comforting sort of noise. "Okay, we're done. So what's the deal Shorty? You like him. Presumably he likes you, at least well enough to get naked with you?"

"Well, sure. Yeah, he does, he likes me. I mean, you know, apart from the whole sex thing we're, like, really good friends, but-"

"Oh, God, tell me it's not Nick Carter. I mean, I like Nick, but he's such a brat."

"Shut up, Joey. Let him finish."

"Thank you. But no, it isn't Nick. I don't think I've ever even slept with Nick. I gave him a blow job in his car one night when he drove me home, but that doesn't really count because it was kind of a dare type situation. You know the kind of thing. He was all 'oh this chick I'm seeing gives like the best head in California', and I was like, 'dude, no way, I know I can do better', so he said 'prove it.'"

"And?" asks Joey.

"And what?"

"And were you better than this chick?"

"Well, duh."

Lance clears his throat. "Um, guys? Can we get back to JC's problem here? Much as I'd like to relive old blow jobs, I've got a teleconference in an hour, and I need to review a couple of files first."

"Yeah, we should stay focused," Joey says. "But if we're going to get sidetracked? That's definitely the kind of place we'll want to go, C."

"Right. Okay, then. Where was I?"

"You were in Nick Carter's car with your face in his crotch."

JC snickers happily while Lance mutters at Joey.

"Okay, okay. I'm ready. See, the problem is, I have this thing for Shorty, but I can't tell him about it because I don't know if he's going to feel the same way and if he doesn't, then telling him might screw up what we do have. And I really, really don't want to do that."

"Well, dude," Joey says. "You kinda have to tell him, don't you? Otherwise nothing's gonna change, right?"

"See, I thought maybe. Well, I made this plan, and I think it's a pretty good one, really quite good. I've even had some success with it already. Limited success, but still. Anyway, I spent a lot of time thinking this through and I think I've figured out that the only time Shorty sleeps with me is when he has this, like, perception that I'm really down emotionally, or confused -- stop laughing, Lance, that's just rude -- or just kind of generally vulnerable. You know? I mean, not that he takes advantage of me or anything, not like that. It's more that whenever I really need him, he's there."

"So, you only really need him once a year?"

"Exactly, Lance! Except, no. I need him more than that, but that's like the heart of the plan. See, I knew you'd get it!"

"Mm hmm. Okay. But I think maybe you should explain it to Joey, bring him up to speed here too."

"It's pretty simple, really, Joe. See, I figure if I can make him feel needed, you know, make him realize that I totally need him in my life as, like, a thing, a boyfriend maybe? A permanent boyfriend or whatever? Then he'll. Well, he'll want to sleep with me all the time, and if he starts doing that then he'll, like, actually be my boyfriend. So. Yeah. That's my plan. In a nutshell."

"Hmmm. Interesting," Lance sounds a bit dubious, but JC figures he's probably just processing. Lance really likes to think things through and examine all the possible pitfalls before he'll commit himself to anything.

Joey's more enthusiastic, though. "Cool! Sounds good, dude. Workable. What can we do to help?"

"Mainly I thought-. Well. I was wondering, Joey, about you and Kel. Like, how did you get her to marry you, for example."

"Well, I asked her."

"Okay. Sure, but you went out with her for ages and you even slept with a whole bunch of other girls, and she still stayed with you. Most of the time, anyway. And you used to say that you needed her, right? So, I'm just thinking, how did you let her know that she was so important to you? Did you have a plan?"

Lance is laughing again, even more obnoxiously this time, but Joey talks over him. "Hmm. I guess I couldn't really call it a plan, per se."

"No shit."

"Be quiet, Lance. You want me to water your plants again? Because I think a few of them are still alive. Anyway, C, it was just a combination of things, I guess. I mean, Kelly always knew she was the one. We talked a lot, you know? I told her all kinds of shit, stuff I didn't tell anyone else, even you guys. Well, except Lance, of course, later on. And when we were on the road, I always bought her shit, just to let her know I was thinking of her. Small stuff, mostly. Funny postcards and weird little souvenirs and whatnot. I still do, but now it's more like flowers or a bag of bagels from her favourite deli. Jewellery occasionally. You know. Oh, yeah, and when the first Lord of the Rings movie came out I sent her one of those Aragorn action figures because I knew she thought he was hot. That kind of thing."

"Cool. Thanks, Joe. This is awesome, it really helps."

"Uh, C? Before you get carried away with Joey's advice? You way want to consider that it took him years -- years, JC -- to get to this point. And on the way he broke Kelly's heart maybe two billion times and got his ass dumped almost as many. I'd have to say that as a strategy, Joey's quote unquote plan pretty much sucked."

"Mm. But. Well, do you have an idea, then?"

"Yup. Don't be such a wuss. Tell Shorty you want him in your bed more than once a year. He's a guy, dude. Direct action is always better. Always. If it works, great. If it doesn't, maybe you just need to keep lookin'. But trust me, it'll work."

"Uh huh. Yes, well. That's very helpful too, Lance. Thanks for your input. I'm just going to have to, um, weigh my options." Really, though, what does Lance know about relationships? He hasn't had a steady boyfriend since forever, and JC doesn't think he's ever managed to hang onto someone for more than a month or two, tops.

Lance just snorts. "Fine then. Y'all just weigh your options. Let me know where you're at in a couple of years."

"Ignore him, C. Your plan rocks. Just keep us posted, dude."

Part 4 can be found here:

http://www.livejournal.com/users/sola_fiamma/21668.html#cutid1

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